


I'll Be Fine, Indeed

by Spadefish



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Vomiting, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spadefish/pseuds/Spadefish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk builds a shrink ray. Jake wants to try it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Fine, Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for vore- a character gets eaten and faces the possibility of death. Don't read if that's going to bother you!

Every now and then, a project pops into your head and you have to think “is this possible? Probably. Is it able to be completed with my share of resources, and will I have learned something from the experience? Possibly. Am I going to do it regardless? Hell yes I am.” You don’t think you really need to explain yourself, and thankfully, most of your friends and companions think the same. Almost every one of your odd contraptions and machines go unquestioned- admired, even, regardless of their usefulness(which varies wildly from project to project. Small robot programmed to scream when it detects a light has been turned off? Not so much). It’s all fun and games and work to keep your mind at ease. 

Jake rolls the pistol-sized gun in his hands. It’s sleek and glossy(titanium finish), but it ends in a point more like a bayonet than a barrel. The very end of it is translucent, allowing a glimpse of the fine details within. It’s lighter than a regular handgun, given its lack of ammo. He mulls it over a few moments longer before handing it back to you with a quirked lip and scrunched brows, a face that says ‘I’m curious but I’m going to humour you just a little longer’. 

“So what is it?” He asks, finally. 

“Shrink ray,” comes your simple response. “No catches or conditions, exactly like the movies. It’s safe- I’ve tested it- and it’s reversible.” 

His face lights up, and you already know what his reaction is going to be before the words even escape his lips. 

“Oooh, Dirk- You’ve gotta let me try it, pretty please! I’ll be careful, I promise, you can put me on the table and I promise I won’t jump off or anythin-”

You roll your eyes and nod, the slightest hint of a smile twitching your lips up before you can stop it. 

“Hold still,” you say. “It’ll be a lot easier that way. This shouldn’t hurt. Tell me if it does.” 

“You got it, Strider!” He grins, looking giddy, and you aim the ray and hesitate half a second before your finger slides down against the trigger and pulls. A low hum starts up in the body of the gun, and it escalates in pitch and volume before it emits a sharp sound and a brilliant beam of blue light. It catches Jake and haloes him, glimmering bright and bold like a star’s corona. He starts to move downward, frozen still but looking quite excited, and you keep your aim steady on him as he shrinks smaller and smaller. It’s all too soon that he’s too small for you to comfortably aim, and you let off on the trigger. 

He shouts something, but from the now greater distance you can’t make it out. You step near him and hold a hand down to the floor, allowing to clamber up. As you lift him, you start to make out what it is that he’s saying. 

“...Didn’t hurt at all, actually, and I can’t even believe how _big_ you are!! It’s incredible, Dirk! Man, imagine eating a cheeto at this size- I’d be set for days!” 

You smile down at him and listen to him chatter excitedly. He’s about an inch tall- maybe slightly smaller, and he feels like he weighs nothing. You make sure he doesn’t tumble over as you slowly and carefully walk over to your desk, where you sit down and gently deposit him beside your computer. After a bit more of his chatter, you do indulge him and find a small snack that you can hand him. He’s fucking elated, and he stuffs himself with as much of it as possible before you relinquish it and pop the rest into your mouth, much to his obvious dismay. You smirk down softly at him, and you notice that he’s watching your mouth and throat as you chew and swallow. 

He’s gone a little bit quiet. You imagine that deep thought takes enough effort to cause the rest of him to slow down and still. Your tongue slides out to clean your teeth, and he watches that, too. 

“Dirk?” He says, and his face is lighting up with renewed excitement as he speaks. “Could I, uh… Could I maybe have a look at your mouth?” 

Your stomach flips, and you can’t determine why. 

“...Yeah.” You help him onto your hand again, and then you bring him up to your lips. After sucking in a short breath, you open up wide. You breathe through your nose in order to avoid breathing directly onto him, and your eyes strain downwards to try and determine what all he’s doing. When you feel him lean forward and put a hand on your tongue, you pull away and close your mouth, looking anxious. 

“Whoah, Dirk, what’s the holdup? You alright?” He looks up at you, concerned, and you clear your throat and peer back down at him gingerly. 

“Sorry. I don’t want you getting hurt or making too much of a mess of yourself.” 

He laughs. 

“I hardly think you’re going to hurt me, Dirk, and I’m no stranger to making a mess of myelf. _You’re_ no stranger to making a mess of me, either,” he says, grinning smugly. You roll your eyes and snort, but give him a more serious look when his own expression evens out. 

“Would you mind too terribly if I had a closer look?” 

You mull the idea over and your stomach twists itself into a veritable knot. What if you hurt him? What if you sneeze and bite him in half, or he slips and catches himself on your teeth, or- god, what if you accidentally swallow him? The thought makes you absolutely nauseous. Jake seems to find your reaction funny, because he’s laughing up a storm. 

“Heaven almighty, Dirk, You look like you’re about to fuckin’ lose it! You gonna be okay there, chap?” 

Clearing your head, you nod. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. And yeah, you can, uh, have a look around. But god dammit Jake, please be fucking careful.” 

He snorts. “Careful is my middle name. I’ll be fine, Dirk.” 

 

You decide, for your own peace-of-mind, not to argue with him.

His tiny little hands rest on your lips, and you breathe in deep before you open up wide again. You hold your breath completely as you feel him carefully clamber in, balancing his weight on the slick surface of your tongue. His skin is salty, you notice, and you find yourself salivating a little bit heavily. His diminutive clothes are soaked in no time, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Keeping your tongue still as he pokes and prods around proves to be a challenge- and the itch to close your mouth and swallow to keep yourself from drooling everywhere is overwhelming. You manage a weak, open-mouthed swallow, and you hear Jake make a small noise of interest. 

He edges slightly deeper, and you’re too frightened to warn him away. You manage a small noise, and he lifts his head up in response- smacking into your uvula and the soft flesh surrounding it. The sensation forces you to gag a bit, lurching forward and shoving your tongue up against your palate. Jake yelps and does something that jabs against the back of your throat, and suddenly, you cannot breathe. Panic overtakes you, drowning out your common sense with a few simple orders- cough, swallow, gasp, repeat- your hand is up at your throat, and you suck in a steady breath. 

When your senses return to you, you swoon so hard you nearly faint. There’s a sharp pain working its way past your collar bone. You grit your teeth and clutch at it, tears welling up in your eyes. The pain is unbearable, but you suck in a sharp breath and stand up, shaking as you try and fail to steady yourself. The stabbing sensation is about halfway down your chest now. You try to say something, try to tell Jake that you’re going to figure this out and he’s going to be okay, but instead you wretch and topple over, gagging hard but bringing up nothing. You’re a fucking mess, all tears and drool and muffled sobs as you haul yourself up to your feet a second time.

Your long and terrible trek to your bathroom is punctuated by awful gagging and sharp pain, the dizzying sensation of almost passing out but managing to just barely cling to consciousness. Your head is so addled with panic that your vision is swimming, black around the edges, and your shaking fingers finally touch the cold glass of your bathroom mirror. You fling it open- you vaguely register a dull _ca-RACK_ but pay it no mind as you tear through the countless bottles and boxes on the shelves. 

Ipecac, ipecac, you’ve gotta have some god damned ipecac in here somewhere, and it would help if you were actually reading labels but you just can’t fucking calm down and focus and Jake is going to die, oh my god he’s going to die you’ve killed him- 

As quick as you realize you’ve found the right thing, you’ve tipped the bottle back and emptied its contents into your mouth and all over your face.You swallow it down like it’s the last liquid on Earth. Finally, your stomach decides that now is a good and reasonable time to turn itself inside out, and you hold your hands in front of your mouth as you heave so hard you stumble forward a little bit. Something soft and warm drops into your hands with a wet slurp, covered in a swill of sickly yellow-orange. You peer down at it for a moment that seems like an eternity, scared half to death that you’re too late, and then he shifts and wipes the awful fluid from his face. 

He sputters once, and then he speaks. 

“You drink way too much fucking soda,” he says.

You stare down at him, mouth and nose dripping, and then your shaky hands deposit him on the counter so that you can vomit a couple more times into the sink. You give up everything you’ve got until you’re so empty you feel raw, and still your body tries to give up more. Your throat feels like it’s on fire. Between heaves, you gag out apology after apology, and it takes you a bit to realize that Jake is talking back to you.

“Hey, hey- Christ Dirk, it’s okay. I forgive you. You obviously didn’t mean it. Heh… You’re a fucking mess, mate. Stop worrying about me and clean yourself up. Well-” He pauses, reconsidering his words before grinning up at you.

“Clean me up too, please.”


End file.
